


Just another November Day

by QuirkyFirst



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkyFirst/pseuds/QuirkyFirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now an adult, Gregory Pines begs his brother to attend a family Thanksgiving celebration at his and his wife's home. However, Wirt doesn't want to face the family issues unresolved from when he was a teenager. Greg eventually convinces his elder brother to come, and, much to his surprise, things don't exactly go as he planned them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathe In

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies! Welcome to my first story. 
> 
> First of all, I wanted to start things off by saying that, although the rating I gave this story was "General Audiences", there are still a few things I don't think fit under that category. First of all, Wirt and his step-father have a rocky relationship. This causes a lot of emotional baggage to occur in the story that may be unsettling for some children. Please know your own maturity before continuing. However, as the amount of emotional depth isn't an overlying theme in the One-Shot, my advice is to simply continue if you are 13 years or older. (or a very mature 12 year old)
> 
> Secondly, the one-shot is not complete yet. It's still a work in progress. I currently have 4/6 chapters finished, and will be updating it (hopefully) soon.
> 
> Last but not least, I would like to point out that this is my own take on Kicsterash's AU "The crossover from hell", where Greg and Wirt's step-father is Stanley Pines. ((HI FRIENDS. update. Ive just watched A Tale of Two Stans... And it seems this AU wont canonly work... So ive went through and changed " Stanley" to "Sherman", the real Grandfather of tge twins. THANK YOU. CARRY ON.)) This would make Gregory and Bonnie the parents of Dipper and Mabel, and Wirt their uncle. Everything else proceeds as canon in both shows. This one-shot takes place when the twins are around 10, two years before the events of Gravity Falls. Greg and Wirt are adults, as previously stated.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> ___________________________________________________________________________________________

"Come on, Wirt. It'll be fun!" The man coaxed into his phone. "Besides, you'll get to see the twins, and me and Bonnie..."

Gregory Pines had been trying to convince his older brother to attend the event he was hosting for at least an hour. Wirt was certainly hard to sway, but the optimistic caller was positive that he was slowly wearing him down. He had decided before he made the call that he wouldn't hang up until he heard a resounding "yes" from the other end of the line.

"Greg, I'm not coming. That's final." Came the annoyed interruption. "I don't want to come, and nothing you say or do is going to convince me otherwise."

Greg paused, noting the slight twinge of pain in his older brother's voice. Maybe he was right. Maybe him coming was a bad idea. Besides, he didn't want to push him away. If Wirt didn't want to come, that was alright. He'd be okay with it. Besides, they'd survived the event every other year without him. Why would this year wouldn't be any different? Greg was about to relent when he heard a deep sigh in the background of the call. He put a pin in his thoughts and listened closer.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to deal with... all that. You know?"

 

He knew.

 

"Wirt, I totally get it. Mom and Dad... they can cause a lot of drama.  Mostly directed at you. But they won't be around forever. And I think..." Greg paused, forming his next words carefully. "I think once they're gone, you'll regret that this was never resolved."

A long pause.

Great. He thought. I've blown it.

"No," Wirt sighed, relenting. "You're right."

Greg felt his heart leap in his chest. A smile befitting the Cheshire-Cat snuck its way up to his lips. "Does that mean... you're coming?"

  "Yeah," Wirt said, his voice a little less irritated than it was the past hour and a half. "Yeah Greg, I'll be there at six."

"Great! Fantastic! I mean- I'll see you there!" The younger sibling laughed, not believing his own ears. He hung up the phone and raced with new-found speed into the kitchen to tell his wife.

His brother was coming to Thanksgiving Dinner.

  


 

 

 


	2. Breathe Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! First of all, I'd like to apologies for Chapter One being so short. I didn't mean for it to happen that way, but it did, and I like how it turned out. Chapter Two will be longer, and hopefully I'll get better at this was we go along. Leave comments about what you like, dislike, and as always, constructive criticism. I want to know how I can improve and grow as a writer. Also, feel free to add what would interest you for later One-shots. For the moment, I'm open to requests! Also, I badly need your opinions. Should I break this up into short chapters like im currently doing, or should it all be together as a simple One-Shot?

"BONNIE!"

 

Greg skid across the kitchen floor, his form colliding with the marble-topped island. The two twins sitting atop said island giggled furiously at their Dad's clumsiness. The petite woman leaning against the kitchen counter raised an eyebrow at her husband, asking what on earth could have gotten him so excited.

"Nothing," He stammered, having great difficulty getting the words to come out correctly. "Nothing bad, that is. You won't believe who's coming to Thanksgiving dinner, though."

The twin with the nacho-shaped earrings piped up first.

"OH! I'm great at guessing games!" She blurted, bouncing her legs. "Hmmm.... let me see... Zac Efron?"

Greg shook his head. "Nope, try again."

"That guy from the pizza shop that always gives us free napkins?"

"Nah. Good guess, though."

"Iron Man?"

"Ha. If only."

"Justin Bieber?"

"Heavens, no!" Greg cried, throwing his hands in the air and laughing. "Jason, how about you give it a try?"

Jamie's twin brother slunk down from the island and leaned against the cabinets instead. He bit his lip, a tell-tale sign that he was deep in thought. He looked his father up and down for a moment and studied his expression. Greg cracked a smile. He should never have let Jason start watching Duck-tective.

"It's Uncle Wirt, isn’t it?" The ten-year-old sleuth finally answered.

 

Then again, maybe that show was paying off.

 

"Very impressive, Mr. Pines." Greg playfully ruffled his son's curly brown hair, causing him to smile proudly to himself. "You're exactly right."

 

Turning to face his dumbfounded wife, he smiled. He had succeeded where everyone else had failed.

"How'd you do it?" She asked, curiosity peaking her voice. "I've been asking him for years. What did you do differently?"

Greg shrugged, putting his arm around her. "To be honest, I don't know. I think maybe... maybe he just thought it was time."

Bonnie nodded, her freshly cut bob bouncing as she did so. "Finally..."

"And hey," Her husband's sparkling blue eyes widened as he had a thought. "Maybe if we keep this up, we can have the whole family over for Christmas!"

Even the twins laughed at the absurd idea, and Bonnie pulled her husband closer. Jason slapped a hand over Jamie's eyes as their parents kissed, which turned out to be in vain, as she parted his fingers to sneak a quick peek.

"Don't get your hopes up, Greg." She sighed. "Just enjoy the fact that he's coming this year. Christmas, and all the holidays after, will sort themselves out."

While that certainly wasn't true, Greg was happy to accept it for the time being. His whole family was going to be together for Thanksgiving. What better thing was there to be thankful for?


	3. Move on

"You know, if that's what you think, you can just _leave_!"

Greg winced at the words. They stung, and they weren't even meant for him. His eyes drifted wearily to where his brother sat, biting his lip. Wirt shifted, blue eyes blazing, and glared daggers into his step-father.

"Maybe I will." He spat, the dishes on the table knocked to their side as he stood. "I didn't even want to be here in the first place!"

Making his way to the door, Wirt snatched his coat from the rack. Greg almost made an attempt to stop him; to get him to work this nonsense out. But he knew better, and turned his eyes downward. This was just how it was always going to be between the two.

Sherman huffed with a demeaning laugh at his step-son. "Then why'd you come, _huh_?"

Wirt's back was turned to the remaining group, and he didn't waste his time altering that. He stared unmoving for a moment at the door, hand resting on one of the many golden handles throughout the house embroidered with his younger brother's favorite sayings. They had been a birthday gift from Wirt himself. The one his shaking hand gripped so tightly read;

_'A house divided against itself cannot stand.'_

_Well,_ Wirt thought, a bitter taste on his tongue. _Then_ _I guess this house is going to have to come crumbling down._

Finally, he breathed out loud and turned the knob.

 "Because I thought maybe you’d _matured_ , Sherman. Maybe learned how to treat your family. But I guess not."

Without another word, he left the home of his brother and entered into the chill November night.

Greg didn't bother following him.

 

<> <> <>

 

_Breath in, breath out._

_Breath in, breath out._

Wirt's foot collided with the pebbles in the pathway as he dragged his feet along. The same two words repeated on loop inside his internal stereo.

_Breath in, breath out._

He needed to keep reminding himself of those two important instructions; he was bound to forget their necessity with all the screaming, chaotic chatter inside his one-track mind.

_Breath in, breath out._

The gravel had suddenly turned to grass, he noticed, as he stared up at the looming Graveyard sign above his head. The road had come to an end. He studied the stone sign intently for a few moments, needing some other topic for his mind to pull apart and over-analyze. The words "The Eternal Garden" were carved into the stone in impressive cursive, vines growing around the edges. Wirt reflected on the haunting name and wondered suddenly if he should alter the title of his book. _Over the Graveyard Wall_ was a bit too goth for his taste. It needed something more whimsical. Something captivating, but simple. A minuscule smile inched it's across his recently somber visage.

 _Over the Garden Wall_  was a much more fitting name, he thought. He let his foot fall across the archway's shadow, and made his way inside, to the one place he could clear his head. The one place he could think properly.

The place all that nonsense began.

 

 ****  
  



	4. Break Down

"Good to see you, Bea."

Wirt's bare feet dangled over the bank and into the dark lake water. His scarf lay beside him, along with his jacket and shoes. He hadn't bothered to take his socks off. He knew that as soon as his feet got wet, they would never go back in the pesky things smoothly. So why bother? He stared into the blackness of the immeasurably deep abyss and tossed a pebble.

"I know you can't exactly hear me, but you don't mind if I vent, do you?"

He waited for a moment, and when the fiery red-head didn't spring out of the water and object, he continued.

"I've been wondering- before we start I want to cover this- would you rather me call you _Beatrice_ , _Bea_ , or _Tris_? Because _Beatrice_ feels a little formal, seeing what we've been through together."

The water stood still.

"I'm... I'm just going to stick with Beatrice. You know, until you tell me otherwise." He took a deep sigh and shifted in the grass. "Anyway, _Beatrice_... Do you ever feel like... like you don't fit in? Anywhere? I mean, I'm not saying like, you don't have people who want you to fit in with them. I have that, and I know you had that. But... what I'm trying to say is... Do you ever look at them, the people who invite you to be with them- like family, and friends- and think to yourself... that even if you tried, you couldn't be one of them? I don't know. I might just be reading into things that aren’t there" Wirt laughed, a bit nervously. A piece of lake weed tickled his foot. "I guess that's the catch of being a writer, huh?"

Wirt sighed, leaning onto his back, and gazed up at the cloudless sky. Who was he kidding? Beatrice couldn't hear him. Beatrice was dead. She had been dead for a while. After all, he'd first visited her grave seven years ago. How long was it going to be until he admitted to himself that she was gone?

He needed to move on. Maybe that was the real root of his problem. Maybe he needed to start living in the real world- Like Greg. Maybe he needed to settle down and get a stable job. Focus on things like family and his job. After all, it had worked for his brother. Why couldn't he do the same?

He'd just made up his mind- when he saw another reflection in the water.


	5. If Everybody Goes Away

Turning his head slightly to the left, he spotted none other than Gregory himself. The thirty-year-old man sat down beside him slowly, folding his legs Indian style beneath him. His belly bulged slightly inside his red winter coat. His _stuffing_ , as he fondly called it. Wirt bit the inside of his cheek.

“Hey,” He squeaked, surprised by his own voice.

“Hi.” Greg replied sheepishly. He fiddled with the remaining grass in front of him; possibly the only spot left untouched by the suffocating leaves. “I didn’t want to follow you, at first, but… I thought you might be here.”

Wirt nodded, carefully avoiding the awkwardness of eye contact by keeping himself focused on the rippling water. “You know me pretty well, I guess.”

“Nah,” Greg admitted, trying to force an unwelcome smile. “You’re just predictable.”

When his brother didn’t offer a response, he continued. It’s now or never, Greg. Get it out now. You can do it. Now’s the time.

“I think you should talk to Dad.”

Wirt’s head snapped back quicker than lightning. “Not a chance on earth!”  He scoffed, laughing in the face of the suggestion. “I’m not discussing anything with him. He doesn’t deserve the time of effort it’d take to hold even a short conversation.” Even as the words left his lips, Stewirt hated their taste. He knew he had to resolve the issue, and soon, or things would just spiral. But his heightened emotions continued to take control, and common sense was pushed to the back seat for the time being.

Greg sighed. “It won’t solve anything…” He hated seeing his brother like this. Around junior year, things started getting really bad, but Greg had just assumed that after Wirt moved out, things would get better. They didn’t, and instead got increasingly worse. They were finally to a point where Wirt hadn't even talked to their parents in two years… That is until Greg pressure him into spending Thanksgiving with them. What was he thinking? That distance was for a reason, after all.

Wirt fell back hard onto the leaf coated ground with a thud. “What if I don't _want_ to be the one to solve it?” He barked, a child-like stubbornness in his tone that Greg had never heard before from his brother. Wirt composed himself amidst the awkward silence and sighed deep. “I just want him to apologise; just to say _‘I’m sorry’_. Is that such a hard thing to ask a grown man to do?”

“With Dad?” Greg looked his brother in the eyes and bit his lip. “Yeah. It kinda is. You know how proud he is. But I think that if you approached him the right way, you could get him to-”

“Admit that he was _wrong_? Say he’s _sorry_?” Wirt interrupted, picking apart the stems of an orange leaf. “You _bet_ I know how proud he is! That alone just goes to show; these things aren't in his vocabulary. They never will be.”

“You don't know that! How could you know that?”

“I just do!”

“How?” Greg snapped, standing up abruptly. “How can you possibly know for sure? You weren’t the best person either back then! The way I remember it, you were a pretty crappy older brother!”

“Don’t put me on the same level as him. That was completely different! I was under a lot of emotional stress back then, you can’t blame me for acting the way I did!” Wirt stood, his voice elevating steadily into a yell as he did.

Greg glared at the blue hazel orbs of his brother and pronounced his next words carefully and with as much of a bite as he could manage for someone he loved so dearly.

“What makes him any different?” The words sunk in. Greg waited for a response but continued when it didn’t come. “He was treated just as badly as you were by his father! He doesn't know any better, Wirt! Neither did you. You treated me like crap because that's how you were treated all of your life. But do I blame you for that? No! Because you’re family and I love you, and because I believed that you would grow up one day! And you did! You never apologized, but I still freaking forgave you anyway! The way Dad... Sherman, is treating you, is wrong. This doesn't justify it, I’m not saying that it does. But you know he loves you. He doesn't know how to show it, that's all. Give him another chance; talk to him about this. We’re a family! We can’t keep doing this. It isn’t healthy; it isn't right.”

The tall man stood, panting, staring at his younger brother in shock and awe. Greg had never voiced anything like that before; he had had no idea how all the things he had said to his brother had affected him when they were kids. He had always thought Greg had forgiven him… He had always hoped, at least. Staring at the ground, he decided now was as good a time as any to finally tell his brother what had been on his chest for nearly fifteen years. His voice croaked when he tried to speak again.


	6. I Will Stay

Wirt took a deep breath, and let out the things that were eating at his brain.

“I overheard them… talking about their divorce… thanksgiving… seven years old…. I…. Yeah.”

Wirt spat out the words with hesitation and constant stops. Why did he have to be so gifted with poetry, but so bad with actual human interactions? The universe wasn't being fair with him.

“That's why...” he continued, finding a way to string together sentences correctly again. “That's why I hate Thanksgiving. That's why I didn't want to s-see Sherman… because every time I… I…”

“Wirt, take a deep breath.”

It wasn't until Greg said something that Stewirt realized he had begun to cry. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes before completing his train of thought.

“Every time I see him, it reminds me of Dad.” Wirt took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he felt a weight lifting off of his chest. It felt good to finally get it out.

Greg chewed his lip and looked down at the floor.

“Gee, Wirt… I never knew.”

“Ah, Greg!” Wirt exclaimed, a nervous laugh building in his gut. “Don't be sorry or anything. It wasn't your fault.”

“I know,” Greg admitted. “But I'm still… well I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have pushed this Thanksgiving thing so hard. I knew you didn't want to go. I just wanted us all to be together, you know? But I should've known there was a reason you didn't wanna come. I messed up bad.

Wirt shrugged, regaining composure and giving his brother a weak smile.

“Well, ain't that just the way?”

Greg smirked, and nodded. Just then, in the midst of the comfortable silence that had awoken between the two, the pair overheard a loud ribbiting sound from the bushes in the distance. The younger brother's eyes lit up like Christmas Ornaments, and he shot after the sound so fast that even Barry Allen would be jealous. Wirt couldn't stop himself from laughing as his brother’s robust figure pranced off comedically in search of the amphibian. He had nearly gotten all the way to the bushes when the sneaky little thing croaked again, this time from an entirely different location. Greg changed directions, skidding on a pile of leaves as he did so, and headed to the general vicinity the frog had escaped to. He looked like he might need some help. Snatching back his scarf that had since begun to dangle in the water, Wirt then ran to join his brother.


End file.
